Mirrors
by Wings of Corrugated Irony
Summary: Alone, they all sit and consider what they are. Neil, Archie, Theresa, Odie, Atlanta, Herry and Jay all have a mirror, and a story to tell. Behold, the heroes you thought you knew. JxT, AxA, one-sided NxO. WARNINGS: mentions of SLASH and impending DEATH.
1. Neil, Hidden

Neil - Hidden

He always had his mirror with him, but that was just to keep up appearances, in both ways, ironically. Of course, he was the descendant of Narcissus; a little vanity was to be expected. Hell, he'd been given Aphrodite as his mentor, vanity was encouraged! But now, standing in his room in front of his panel of three angled, full-length mirrors, all he could see behind the pretty face was a little boy who didn't even know who he was. He wondered for a moment, as he 'fixed' his already perfect hair out of habit, what he would have been like if he had been ugly or just average. Maybe he would have been a more likeable person; perhaps he would have more genuine friends.

It was funny, really. Everyone thought that the pretty people got everything: the friends, the romance, the power, the money, the happiness. Maybe that's what people thought he had, and they were dead wrong. Before he had met the team the friends were fake, the romance was meaningless flings, the power was a façade and the happiness was his best smile plastered on for the cameras. Sure, there was the money, but soon enough the amounts seemed obscene and the sight of anyone struggling to earn their pittance of a wage fed the guilt that gnawed at his soul.

Then he met the team. It only took him two days to realise how fake his personality was, how much he hated it. But it was too late to change such a fundamental part of himself. Though it was uncomfortable and ill fitting, he had grown into his personality and to change it now would only present a weakness that he could not afford to expose. Maybe when this was all over he'd move to the UK or Australia, maybe even America if he was desperate, and start himself anew.

He really did wish he could change now; maybe then he would have a chance. Because, funnily enough, he had fallen in, well, he refused to call it love, but it would have to be pretty close to love if it hurt that badly all the time. He was kinda, not really, in love with one of the team. And they were nothing like the fluttery, beautiful airheads he had previously dallied with. Including the fact that the certain someone was a he, which had cause a fair bit of initial denial on his part.

He remembered every cruel remark he had made to try and make the feelings go away. He wouldn't be surprised if the descendent of Odysseus hated him. And now he could never capture his attention, nor deserve it. His modelling 'friends' would all gush about how wrong he was, about how he could get "anyone he wanted". If Archie knew he'd probably snort and say something along the lines of "well, duh". Knowing that did not help the aching want. And again he wondered if he had been less beautiful, more likeable, would he have a hope or a chance? He doubted it.

Being uglier did not make you smarter or make guys more inclined to want you. Odie deserved someone as intelligent as he was and definitely female as it was obvious that the techno-savvy boy was straight as a pin. He looked into the mirrors and tried to picture what they would look like together. And as much as it hurt, it didn't look right. They were so mismatched it was painful. Dark and pale, short and tall, earth and 'cultured'. And then his imagination faded and he was alone. He sighed heavily and wondered if his luck was enough to counteract three broken mirrors. He somehow knew it could, but desperately wished it couldn't.

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**Reviews would be lovely. I hope to update this fic daily, so hopefully it will be finished within a week (one chapter per team member). Tomorrow, Archie.**


	2. Archie, Weak

Archie - Weak

He locked the bathroom door and walked to the sink, setting down his towel and spare clothes, absently noticing his reflection doing the same in the mirror that took up more than half the wall above the sink. He laid the bathmat outside the shower door and hung his towel over one of the glass sides. He sighed, looking directly at his mirrored self, it would be best to get this over with. He stripped off all his clothes so that the only thing he was wearing was the ankle brace that gleamed in the bright bathroom. He turned on the shower, making sure it was the correct temperature, before seating himself on the side of the bath and carefully released his ankle from the brace, laying it on the bench beside his clothes. He refused to bathe with it on.

He stood slowly, gently shifting some of his body weight onto his right leg. For a few seconds he felt normal, but then his ankle twinged sharply and he found himself clutching at the sink for support as he stared into the pained eyes of the boy in the mirror. They quickly became furious. He was so weak! No wonder he couldn't go ahead and bite the bullet when it came to Atlanta! Without his ankle brace he was useless, a cripple. Why would anyone want him, broken as he was?

He sighed and stood as straight as he could while still leaning on the sink and prepared himself for the walk to the shower, a grand total of about 1.5 metres. How epic. He made his first move, kind of like a cross between a hop and a step with his left foot, only the toes of his right foot resting on the floor to help maintain his balance along with the wild flailing of his arms. It took him four 'steps' to reach the shower.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror as he, the mighty Warrior, stumbled awkwardly to the shower wearing only his birthday suit. A slight, hysterical chuckle slipped from his lips. He finally got into the shower, leaning on the soap dish for support, hoping as he did every night that it was secured quite firmly to the shower wall. The warm water pounded into his back and he was tempted to relax, but he knew he had to keep his mind sharp. The fact that the floor of the shower was slippery was a hard learned lesson that gave him a sore tailbone for days. And today it would be worse because he was washing his hair and his conditioner made it hellishly slippery, even for someone with two feet solidly on the ground.

As he rubbed the shampoo into his scalp he turned to watch himself in the mirror. The bottom half of the shower glass was already fogged with steam, thanks to soap scum, so he could only see his torso. His normal half. He turned back around to rinse his hair and continued with his shower routine. He soon shut off the water, wrapped a towel around himself and hobbled frantically over to the side of the bath, sitting down with a moan of relief, his left leg trembling slightly, not used to bearing his full weight for so long.

He dried himself as he sat, something he was quite good at now, before grabbing his brace and enclosing his ankle in the protective metal. He stood, no longer the crippled boy of moments before. He was probably stupid to push himself like that, if he hurt his ankle further while not wearing the brace there would be unpleasant consequences regarding his mobility. He should probably just take a bath, but even that amount of water had the potential to make him nervous. He wiped a circle in the fogged up mirror so he could see himself as he brushed his teeth. He looked at himself. No matter what anyone else said, he knew the truth. He was weak.

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**Please, review if you liked. One word is better than silence. Tomorrow, Theresa.**


	3. Theresa, Flawed

Theresa - Flawed

She examined herself closely in the full-length mirror. Feet, ankles and calves, okay. Perhaps a little paler than she would have liked. Thighs, they looked ok right now, but when she sat down they looked absolutely huge. Hips, well, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with them. Stomach, not completely flat. There was a little bit of pudginess there that she could never get rid of. Waist, boobs, face; fine. She'd always been able to purchase the best facial care products and make up. Hair. Perhaps Jay didn't like it that way. Maybe every time he saw it, it reminded him of a time when it had flown out from her head in all directions as she thirsted for retribution and power. Perhaps she should cut it shorter, about shoulder length.

Besides, she couldn't think of anything else that could cause Jay to treat her this way. It wasn't quite distant and guilty wasn't right either, though she suspected that he was hounded by it, but not just for her sake. He was afraid, but not afraid _of_ her as she would have most feared. He seemed afraid _for_ her. It sounded better than fearing her, but she could see no reason why he would fear for her, apart from the obvious. His fear for her was constant, not confined to battles and missions, and it even seemed more intense when they were alone.

They were very rarely alone and she somehow got the feeling that Jay made an effort to avoid it. It was an even rarer occasion when they could be vaguely intimate with each other. Most often they kept to tender, caring kisses where passion was held back on both sides, and though she had no idea why he held back, she followed his lead as loyally as ever. She held the one moment when Jay had let go close to her heart. It was after a particularly tough mission. Odie had been badly injured and the rest of the team had all narrowly avoided death or serious injury in some way or another.

She had almost been buried under a collapsing building. She had been running, freedom within her reach and Jay summoning her to safety, when she realised that the building was collapsing too fast. For a few terrifying moments she genuinely believed that she wasn't going to make it, horrified to see that the same belief was reflected in Jay's eyes. Then Atlanta had dashed in and managed to pull her out with moments to spare. Jay's eyes didn't leave her as they rushed back home, desperate to get Odie to Chiron. Neil was almost in hysterics, probably had an aversion to all the blood or something.

As quickly as it was possible, given his role as leader, Jay had pulled her into a dark hallway somewhere in the school, leant her against a wall and kissed her with a passion that stirred her blood in a way that she could never had imagined. His hands clutched desperately at her face and hair, while she clung to his waist, hardly believing what was happening. After parting to breathe for the third time he shuffled half a step backwards, looking sheepish. He even apologised quietly. It surprised her so much that she didn't have time to tell him there was no need to say sorry before he clasped her hand in his and lead her back to where the team was, worriedly waiting for Odie to regain consciousness. She looked at herself in the mirror again. No, she didn't want to cut her hair. Yet again, she wondered what she was doing wrong that made Jay hold back on her. After all, she couldn't fix herself if she didn't know what was wrong.

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**Reviews are always loved. Tomorrow, Odie.**


	4. Odie, Scarred

Odie - Scarred

He stood in front of the mirror, clad only in a black pair of briefs, and really looked at himself. He had changed a lot in the relatively short amount of time he had spent with the team. Sure, his muscles were slightly more defined, something that made him look harder, older. But what he was really looking at were the scars. The most noticeable from here were the three parallel scars that ran across his chest from when Campe had grabbed him in his sleep. Without Chiron's healing abilities they would have been much worse, but they were still there. He turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder at his back. Here was the scar that made his stomach jerk uncomfortably at the mere memory.

The scar, about twice as thick as those on his chest, started at his right shoulder and snaked down his back to his left hip. It was no random scar, the creature that had caused it was a sentient being, specifically a sphinx. Apparently, she was an older and more violent relative of Josephine's, who's respect for wisdom and knowledge was slim to none. The scar on his back had been the beginnings of a design, like the ones that he drew idly in his notebooks.

After she had captured him, she had chained him face-down on the floor and decided that his back would make an excellent canvas. She began her drawing using a single claw, explaining as it tore through his skin and flesh that her eventual aim was to draw an hour-glass. Her voice boomed so loudly that he could hear it, even over his own piercing screams. She thought a hour-glass to be terribly ironic, seeing as their greatest enemy was the god of time. At that point someone had burst into the room, sufficiently distracting the beast, and allowing him a moment of peace to pass out.

He didn't particularly mind the scar, as odd as it seemed, but her was not all that concerned about perfection of the flesh. What disturbed him more were those scars that he could not see, the ones that had been left on his soul. He wondered how scarred the others had become through the experiences they had endured. He couldn't really say for sure, because he didn't really know them. They were all fighters, working from a common ground. He was just the I.T. guy who made sure the whole operation ran smoothly. They would all discuss battle tactics until the cows came home, but dare he mention the workings of his newest bit of technology there would be poorly suppressed groans and glazed over eyes.

Truthfully, he reckoned that none of them would've given him a second glance in any normal situation. In a normal situation he could certainly imagine Jay, Theresa, Archie, Atlanta and probably Herry being friends, but he and Neil would go in totally different directions. They were the two outsiders of the group, but apart from that they had nothing in common. Or so it seemed. He doubted that Neil was so wrapped up in himself that he was immune to loneliness, he might be surprised if he extended the hand of friendship. He had turned back to face the mirror by now and noticed something apart from his reflection. In the mirror he could see his bedroom door, ajar as he had left it, but through the gap he saw an eye and a tuft of blond hair rather than the usual hallway. He tugged on a pair of beige cargoes before looking right back at the blond youth through the gap in the door. A blue eye widened and he heard a slight gasp. "Would you rather come in?"

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**Like it? Review! Tomorrow, fate permitting, Atlanta. I haven't written all of it yet and I'm rather busy at the moment. However, I do not want to break the pattern, so it should be up tomorrow.  
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	5. Atlanta, Why?

Atlanta - Why?

She frowned at her reflection. It made no sense to her! There were so many things she didn't understand at the moment and all of them led back to the ever-frustrating Archie. Firstly, why did he even like her? She was not pretty or beautiful in the traditional sense of the word and though she knew that looks weren't everything in a relationship, she hadn't previously believed that teenaged boys had the brain capacity to handle that concept. On the other hand, she didn't think it was her 'sparkling' personality that had attracted him either. They were always at odds over something, even an idiot could realise that much. The male, sexist, chauvinistic pig side of him always seemed to bring out her ever so righteous and usually dormant feminist side. Well, maybe not entirely dormant, but she knew that side of her wasn't particularly likable to say the least.

She may not be the best judge, but she had always thought she'd live through her teenaged years with boys running from her like terrified dogs with their tails between their legs. Her mother had been as opinionated as she was in her youth and she hadn't exactly been beating the boys of with a stick. She would have thought Archie to be the last person to take an interest in her. But she would have also thought that _she_ would be the last person to take an interest in _him_! That was another thing she didn't get. How could she find someone so perfectly annoying so annoyingly perfect? She knew things had gotten really bad when she found herself staring dreamily at him one day during class and rhapsodising to herself about his hair. His _hair_ for goodness sake! It should be something she teased him about, not something she considered poetically when she was bored.

And it was more than just how he looked, she liked _him_. There were moments when he would do some innocuous thing and she would find herself thinking about how cute or sweet or _sexy_ he was. He had this certain smile that made her stomach jerk like someone had attached the top of her stomach to a fishhook and tried to cast the line. Fortunately, it was a lot less painful than that. Yet, they were only moments. More often, they found themselves bickering. She knew constant fighting did not make a good relationship. Her parents had more than proven that to her. If they had waited one more week she probably would've asked them to get a divorce herself! She wondered if they had started out like this, playful little arguments that, funnily enough, lead to a greater sense of closeness. Would those arguments one day turn around and fling them further apart? She didn't know.

But the thing that laid most heavily on her mind at the moment was a simple question. Why weren't they together? They liked each other and they _knew_ they liked each other. She felt like she was constantly holding her breath around him, waiting for the air to rush from her lungs in blessed relief when they finally could admit that they belonged together. Sure, it was terribly old-fashioned and quite out of character for her to want him to ask her first, but some small part of her desperately wanted to hold on to that innocent, fairy-tale dream that she'd had when she was young. So why didn't he ask her? She had the sneaking feeling that he really did want to, but something was pulling him back. Sometimes they were alone together this funny look would cross his face and she could almost feel that he was about to ask. But then he would avoid her gaze and make some excuse so that he could avoid her presence too. It seemed so unlike him, but perhaps that was the warning that she didn't know him well enough. Yet, still she had some weird sense of faith in him. She knew that it would all be okay, they just needed a bit of time. Unfortunately, time did not come in an unlimited supply. Especially for heroes.

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**Reviewers get cyber-cookies... Hope you enjoyed it! Hopefully, Herry's will be up tomorrow. Not written as of yet, but if I can do it with Atlanta's, I can do it for Herry too! ;)**


	6. Herry, Observant

Herry - Observant

He watched himself carefully as he lifted weights in the gym. Ares had recently installed some mirrors in there to assist his students in keeping their posture correct as they worked. He was rarely in front off mirrors. Completely understandable given the person he was, though he thought it was more accurate to say 'the person who he seemed to be'. There was more to him than muscle and a stomach that could be likened to a black hole. He certainly wasn't sub intelligent, but neither was he a genius of any kind. He did have his own little secret talent for simple mathematics, he could add, subtract, multiply and divide faster than most people could type it into a calculator. However, algebra made his head spin, it was just wrong to include letters in maths!

Apart from that he had no overt academic talents and achieved average results in most of his classes, which pleased his Gran quite a bit. His father had never been interested in school. Despite his intellectual aptitude, people came to underestimate him, thinking he was another stupid jock, albeit a relatively quiet and very kind-hearted one. As a result, he saw more things and heard more things, things he wouldn't have known otherwise. He also tended to notice more things when he spent the majority of his time in silence rather than participating in conversations. He saw the things that people said with their faces and their actions rather than their words. He could tell after watching Archie and Atlanta interact for a few moments after they had all met that there was something more to them than their budding rivalry. Jay and Theresa hadn't been as obvious, but that hadn't taken him long either. Even now, he seemed to be the only one who realised that Neil often looked at Odie in a way that reminded him of the way Theresa looked at Jay with a dash of pain that came with unrequited love. Odie didn't seem to notice and he was quite sure that the resident genius of the team wasn't pretending ignorance.

They weren't the only things he noticed; they were just the obvious and the understandable things. He noticed Archie's sudden and almost random bouts of what could only be described as intense nervousness around Atlanta. Nothing seemed to cause them. He noticed the sadness and longing mixed with love whenever Atlanta looked at Archie. He noticed the way that Theresa, on the days when Jay kept his distance from her, bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself crying while her hands formed such tight fists that her fingernails nearly broke the skin, instead leaving pink crescent-shaped dents in her palms for half an hour or so. He noticed the way that Neil spent half his time looking in his hand mirror, almost reluctantly, while spending the other half of his time sneaking glances at Odie. Odie seemed to do nothing unusual, which was a distinct curiosity in itself. But Jay, he was the one who he understood the least.

The darkness and guilt that had invaded his face since they had first met was grossly disproportionate to all they had experienced. The guilt in his eyes was like that of a murderer redeemed, living with the death some poor soul on their conscience, or the guilt of someone who had to destroy someone he loved for the sake of the world. Yes, guilt followed Jay, no matter how much he tried to hide it. He noticed all these things, but still something plagued him. He had no idea _why_ these things were happening. He prayed there was some relatively guiltless explanation, some innocent secret that he knew nothing of that would explain the strangeness. He sighed, deciding he had done enough repetitions and wandered to put the weights back on the rack and turning back to face the mirror, noting the troubled expression on his own face. Unfortunately, innocent explanations were rather hard to come by these days. All he could do was pray that the truth would not be too terrible. Surely they had suffered enough.

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**A bit bombshell-ish, perhaps? If you don't want to be left wondering, like Herry, read the seventh and final entry tomorrow. Jay. Reviews and reviewers are loved!**


	7. Jay, Secrets

Jay - Secrets

He stared at his reflection as he sat alone in his room. It was the only time when he let his exhaustion show, when he was alone. Whenever he had a moment for himself, but not enough time to go sailing, he would grab the battered wooden kitchen chair that had been his grandfathers and sit in front of the mirror on the inside of his wardrobe door. Then he could think about everything or nothing at all. He watched as he let it all drop and the haunted look returned to his eyes. Sure it was difficult, being the leader, but keeping all the secrets was even harder. Hera had told him everything. All the things the team weren't meant to know. Aparently, they had to retain a certain level of innocence to defeat Cronus, but knowing everything required to bring about Cronus' defeat would tear that innocence to shreds. A Catch 22.

So, _he_ got all the knowledge that he could instruct them with at the right time. They all followed his word to the letter; after all he was their trusted leader who would defend them to the end of time. They didn't know just how much. Because, although seven heroes would defeat Cronus, not all seven would survive it. Jay knew that he was going to die for this, for them, for her. That was another thing he knew. Hera had asked Persephone to place a block on Theresa's mind, so that she would only see what they wanted her to see. Amongst everything that the gods had done this was the one thing that made him the most furious. Sure, he would die. In essence, by telling him everything, Hera had sentenced him to death and they both knew it. But he would not allow them to mess with the mind of one of his team, especially not Theresa.

He sighed, he looked so much older in the mirror, with all his facades stripped away. He knew too much. He knew that certain websites were fixed on Odie's laptop so that they looked like broken links, Aphrodite had been instructed to keep Archie and Atlanta from getting together so that nothing could happen in that respect, Neil was encouraged in his self-centred nature so that he spent so much time loving himself that he didn't have time to look elsewhere and Herry was distracted by working out and food. Hera trusted him to keep an eye on Theresa. This morning Hera had told him that they had started to put something in their food and water that would balance the team's hormones somewhat and reminded him that, under no circumstances, were any of them allowed alcohol.

His head was beginning to ache. Of course he knew this was wrong. He did not deserve to be their leader, let alone their friend, if he was letting something like this happen to them. All he do was trust that Hera was telling him the truth, though he saw no reason for her to lie. It was killing him inside, but he had to push through, he had to endure. The weight of the world was resting on his shoulders, but he was still going to save it. If there was one thing he wasn't, it was cowardly. His suffering meant nothing if he saved the world, the world that had his team and Theresa in it. That was the only thing that mattered.

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And with that, I declare the Mirrors drabbles complete... But there's always the possibility for companion pieces! I have a few ideas... Let me know if you have an opinion on that. Now, (as promised) here I'd like to make a couple of thank yous. Firstly, to dazzeling diamond, I wouldn't have been able to write this baby without you, not the least because you initiated my CotT obssession. African-Titan, your reviews and messages have provided inspiration and endless entertainment. (P.S. Gareth WILL NOT DIE!) Also, a great big thanks to the rest of my darling reviewers: .Invisible-Nobody. and 4evacrazy.**

**Oh, btw, a final review would be lovely! Thanks for all your support!**


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